Saturday, September 05, 2009

Where I Am

September is a weird place. We’re having now a taste of a summer that has never happened this year and it feels like something that you really should have done in your youth and you’re doing in your middle age as a sort of compensation. In the garden, the tomatoes are still green, the one-and-only green pepper that I had now lies on the ground, nibbled by squirrels, and the grass is covered with red and yellow maple leaves.

I’m still around. I haven’t disappeared (yet) in any personal black hole. I’m writing a little bit, and reading your blogs as much as I can, but I just haven’t had that drive to participate much in anything. Even to leave you a comment, beyond the “wow” that usually first comes to mind, seems often an impossible task. I’m very grateful to all those who still think of me, despite my absence…

Mellow – that’s a word that comes to mind. I often feel like a fly, numbed by the night’s coolness, waiting for the Sun to warm its wings again, just a few more times before the dread of winter.

I’m trying to finish a story and one moment I think it’s great and the next moment I think it’s worthless.

School has started and, since it’s a complete novelty for my youngest, it takes a heavier toll on her. Her worries don’t let her sleep well at night, she wants to be with me all the time, and she keeps asking if I’m home the next day. When I tell her that I have to go to work, she says, “Would you like to go to work one day and then stay home twenty days?” Yes, I would like that, very, very much.

So, I leave you for now with a face to these words. At least you’ll know who you’re talking to.The picture has been taken while boating on the moat at the Chenonceau Castle, on the Loire Valley, in France. I lost there one of the gold earrings that you see in the photo – I was quite upset by this. In this castle, there was a very strange room, all decorated in black. It had belonged to Louise of Lorraine who lived there, in perpetual mourning, from 1589 when her husband, King Henry III of France, was assassinated by the monk Jacques Clement, until her own death, in 1601. Imagine living there, in that black room, with its black tapestries and its sombre furniture, while outside bloomed some of the most beautiful gardens…

20 comments:

Uhhhhh...not to be vapid at all but I could use some of that hair you have going on there Vesper. It isn't a match in color at all but it still would warm the old bald spot. Warm it just like reading your wards today and in the past have warmed a tired old heart.

I think that everyone has a certain ebb and flow to their life. Tides do come and go as does contentment and sadness. It is the tidal current that gives us measure that life is still around us. Only them in the catacombs are not able to feel the comedy and tragedy of being earthbound.

No one is ever everything to all people. Not mothers and fathers, not gods or kings, even though all would be if they knew how. It is good that we do not know how. In not knowing our humanity is revealed.

You know and it is not always going to be pain, that your daughter will acclimate and you will do all you must to be with her. *shrug* for the time working is a part of the fulfillment of that need.

Blogging, posting, commenting in the grand scheme of things I think it may safely be said that participation is voluntary. When it becomes mandatory I know I will quit.

Hi, Vesper! I can identify with the mellow feeling, but it seems as if life grabs my mellow before I can even enjoy it. School is back here, too, and as that's my vocation, I feel all the attendant anxiety of your daughter multiplied many times. I spend a good deal of my time at the first of the year assuring concerned parents that we will care for their children well and the rest of my time praying that we do...

It is nice to have a face to connect with the words. You're a very pretty gal.

About that room - I can see you turning that to your advantage in one of your stories.

About the story - that's the way I feel about all of my poems. Every time.

Vesper, you went to my favorite place in all the world! And look at your sweet face and smile! I'm so glad to finally see your face, how beautiful you are.

I can relate to your questions and cycles. It is a constant revisiting. I love your writing, you have such a lovely way in your prose with such curious subjects, and your poetry is just exactly what I want it to be. It just hits that perfect note for me.

And time on and off the blogs is good I think. I can relate to just not having the bandwidth for it. But we are here when you are ready!Hugz to you Vesper.

Mark, again I must save your words in a place where I can easily reach them to reread as need arises.The tides of life, yes, it would be “boring” without them, even though at the time we might feel the need to complain. As for the children it is not a pain at all, no, but a fearful joy for their need of us will end too soon, and then – what will we do with so much “free” time upon us? So I gladly go to her and to the other one, whenever they call me.

For the blogs, also, nothing is mandatory as you say it, but I suffer because I would really, really, really like to participate more and my chronic lack of time makes it a struggle – I can only “steal” a moment here, a moment there…

You too, be well, my friend, and thank you for your thoughts.

Ah, Jason, thank you! :-) I will probably never ever fully grow out of spring and out of childhood and I will be constantly surprised at the changes without…

Charles, strange, yes, but I’ve been feeling this for a few good years now.

Lisa, I knew it and I thank you for saying it again.

Thank you, Aniket!

The lady on the phone… hmmm, interesting, I never thought of the Matrix… I am told I look a lot like her but, no, it is a painting by the Scottish artist Jack Vettriano, “Her Secret Life”.

I saw you wrote a poem using that pic as a prompt. I’m off to read it… :-)

Karen, thank you so much! :-) (I’m blushing now…)

You know, that “back to school” feeling, I have it every Sunday evening… and I get now to live it again, even more intensely, with my daughters. I like how you say that, as a teacher, you have it too and even more than your pupils…

I’m grateful for your kind words.xoxoxo

Cat, now I’m blushing again… Thank you!

Chenonceau is indeed a beautiful place, one can see how it was influenced by the women who owned it, from the one who really designed it to the queens who lived there.

Good Morning Vesper~ I understand completely your mellowness. We all need a break from time to time. Take this time to finish working on your writing. When you're ready to come back again you'll be refreshed.

The castle's room you mentioned makes me think of the movie The Mask of Red Death starring Vincent Price. Each room was of a different color. I don't think I could have stayed in a black room as long as Louise did. I am one who appreciates color. But, it was an interesting story.

School is in session here as well. My daughter has been going since August. She's liking it so far. I think that's because she graduates next year though.

Thanks for sharing the photo of yourself. I love you long hair. Have a great day.

Re your current melancholy, I think that most people as creative as you experience this as a part of their creative process. If you will forgive my presumption, it may mean that your mind and spirit will come together in the spring to produce something truly wonderful.

If you would like another set of eyes to read your work in progress, please always feel free to email me whatever you would like. I feel in your debt for the kindness you have shown us all by posting your work. Without you and my other friends in the blogging world, my world would have been so much poorer over the last year.

Now get back to work- remembering all the while this quote from Nathaniel Hawthorne: "“And here I sat a long, long time, waiting patiently for the world to know me.” Believe me, it won't take forever for your talent to be discovered.

I wish you the best with adjustment to school. (Shhh, don't tell, but part of me loves that clinginess...)

Sorry about the earring. I hate it when that happens. Grrr! Once I thought I lost one of my favoritest-of-all-time silver hoops, only to find it on the driveway-- flattened, smashed, stepped on.... :P I straightened it as best as I could, but it'll never be the same. :(

Hi Michelle, I’m glad to see you here again. :-) I appreciate very much your sharing of thoughts and experiences. I haven’t seen that movie but I read Poe’s story many years ago.I think my daughter’s worried only before she gets to school – once there, she enjoys it. Well, she’ll get used to it… :-)

You'd think so, LW… :-)

That would be nice, Bernard. :-)

Thank you, Rick!You always have such warm and reassuring things to say… I couldn’t thank you enough!You know, I might do just what you say and accept your offer… I’m very tempted, though I would hate to intrude upon your time. The story would (maybe) be for the new High Seas…

Paul, thank you! :-)Sometimes it feels almost overwhelming to think how much history those castles have seen…You were lucky to have a hot August, but I guess it was more difficult with the baby.

Hi, Aine! :-) What a pleasure to “see” you here! Thank you for your compliment! :-)Yeah, shhh, don’t tell, I love that clinginess, too… ;-)Sorry about your earring… I very seldom loose things so when it happens it’s that much more annoying.

So nice to SEE you Vesper! What a pretty woman you are. SOunds like you are in a contemplative place these days, that can be very good thing. A time when things are slowed down enough (in our minds) to allow us to think clearly and often see changes that are possible that we might miss in more hectic times. I miss your comments but I understand.

I know how you feel. It's been a month since I've been here to read your blog and I can barely remember where the month went. I suppose I'm focused on my new novel and it's sort of like falling in love. Not a lot of keyboard time for anything else. Glad to see you are well. Thanks for sharing your pic with us...a special treat ;)

In Search of Lost Time

A Member of the Shameless Lions Writing Circle

He leaped at me
from the faded tiles of
Ishtar's procession.
His claws sank deep
into my flesh,
the dust of all illusions upon us.
"What seek you?" he rumbled. "The brilliance
is gone,
the gold is ashes."
"One named Alexander," I said.
"He was once a god."

My Heart Only

In the orchard of pink grapefruit, I walk.
What gleams, what sparkles, so lively, so slyly,
In the hot well of this darkness?
No stars in the high, no glow worms in my skirts.
Only your eyes, your glare of sapphire.
Your mighty roar echoes for me alone,
Sweet and bitter.
Do not devour me, lion of my heart.
Let us sacrifice this ripe grapefruit.